The Last of Us
by ausllyxaustinally
Summary: You've heard of an apocalypse, right? Good. Because that's what this is. The apocalypse.
1. Chapter 1

_Austin Moon or "Crazy-Lunatic-Boy"_

Austin smiled a toothy smile to the audience who clapped for him. He had just stopped playing the piano and the teachers were wildly astonished that a nine-year-old boy could have such a remarkable talent! Austin feels immensely proud of himself as he scurries off of the school's performance stage and walks backstage where the other kids were lined up, waiting for their turns to perform. Austin hardly notices the cold stares they're giving him.

"Very well done, Austin Moon," said his music teacher, handing him a red sucker. Austin's eyes light up with joy as he takes it, tearing off the wrapper and sticking the candy between his lips. It tastes like raspberries, his ultimate favourite. "I think you might have won the talent show this year!"

"Thank you, Ms. Suzie!" Austin grins boyishly up at his favourite teacher. For the first time, Austin actually felt like he mattered! Like he was great at something! Music was definitely his forte and he wondered if he would ever become a rockstar. Oh, he wanted to so badly!

Ms. Suzie runs her fingers through the small boy's hair before she turns and walks off to make sure the next student is ready to perform their little heart out today! Ms. Suzie just adored these talent shows! She thought it was amazing to see how many young children had talents.

Austin is grinning wildly with the sucker's stick pointing out the side of his mouth. His lips are turning red from the candy. He's humming a melody to himself when he's suddenly falling onto the floor. He hits the hard flooring with a loud thud. There is a chorus of laughter that makes Austin's confusion turn to embarrassment. He picks himself up and peers up at a student who is towering over him. He's got dark hair and his lips are twisted into a cruel smirk.

"Sorry, Austin, my foot must've slipped," he tells the meaningless apology while glancing at the other students who haven't stopped their laughter.

Austin hesitates, "...S'okay..." he mumbles, coming to a standing position. His palms are aching and his knee caps are burning from the fall. He glances at the line up of students who are giggling or smiling at him. He wondered why they took joy in bringing him down. He recalled the day in kindergarten when he sang in front of the class and they had picked at him. After school, they had thrown their garbage at him and called him names. The names get updated every year: _Freak, Teacher's pet, Dummy, Clown, Spaz, Angel, Astronaut(Which originated from his last name), Superstar, Loser._

Austin glances at Brooke, his crush, she's covering her lips giggling. He wondered why he bothered to take an interest in her. She was just as bad as everyone else. Yesterday she poured her chocolate milk all over him and told the teacher that Austin stole it from her and dumped it on himself. (Which was stupid really, why would he waste chocolate milk like that?)

Austin stares at the ground, shifting around the toes and ankles of the kids who want to trip him, too. Austin stuffs his hands into his pockets of his jeans that fit his waist in all the right places. He decides that being a nine-year-old is tough stuff. Who knew that loving something would give you so much hate? Austin always found himself juggling loneliness and confusion. He never had any friends; people thought Austin was the weird boy who enjoyed music too much. He was confused, because all the kids said those things but yet they were at this talent show to _play music_. Why was it weird when he did it and not them? He thinks he's growing to hate them.

Austin bumps into somebody, as if his day couldn't get any worse! He looks up and relaxes when he sees that it's only Ms. Suzie. Ms. Suzie asks if he is alright. Austin glances over at the students who are lost in their own conversations of excitement. He smiles up at Ms. Suzie, convincing her easily and tells her that he couldn't be any better. He lied a lot at school. He was never okay. Austin often wondered if he ever broke in the school, would anyone even hear him? He feels like a broken record that no one really wants to listen to. He hates that feeling.

When Austin turns to twelve, he is hiding under his bed. He thinks of song lyrics that he could never piece together on his own. How could he not write a decent song if he loved music so much? The question is beyond him! His body is trembling beneath that bed spread as he reminds himself that he cannot make a sound; an intruder was walking through his home.

Austin can hear the loud, stomping footsteps of the intruder. They are in his living room, doing only God knows what and Austin prays that he doesn't die tonight. Despite all the wishes he'd made to stars about dying, he suddenly realizes that he still has a life to live. He hopes the intruder doesn't find him under his bed. He knows he's a boy and maybe boys shouldn't be afraid, but Austin is terrified, trembling, shivering, and shaking.

Austin's eyes grow in size as the footsteps getting nearer to his room. His heart pounds so loud that, for a moment, he thought it was footsteps walking up and down his stairs. He finds himself breathing in shaky relief when the footsteps pass his room. He's suddenly guilty when he hears the intruder walk into his parent's room. He whispers a prayer to God, but God doesn't answer it when he hears two gun shots. His ears ring from the echoing noise that is repeating in his subconscious mind.

Austin forces himself not to panic and he stays under that bed. He does not get up from under that bed. He was lucky that he had heard the intruder crawl through the living room window. He would've considered that it was just the wind, but when he awoke from the shuffling sound of the intruder, he glanced out his bedroom window and he noticed a black mustang. His parents did not own a black mustang. With knowing that, Austin had crawled under his bed and now he wonders if it was selfish. Maybe he should have ran to his parents and explained to them that he thought somebody was in the house. But he didn't. This must be his fault.

His thoughts patronize him until they shatter with something in the living room. Austin gulps and suddenly hears the intruder exiting through the front door with a slam. The intruder did not know that Austin existed and Austin was slightly thankful.

Austin creeps out from under his bed. He glances out the window and watches the mustang flee. Austin sneaks over to the stairs and notices that the window and door are still intact. It was as if nobody had entered or left. The TV is smashed and the couch is flipped over. The cushions on the couch are ripped open and Austin wonders if the intruder must've been looking for something: perhaps, money? drugs? or maybe he was just ruining Austin's life? Austin went with the latter.

Austin flinches when he remembers the gun shot sounds and he races into his parent's bedroom. He freezes in his steps. His mother was still curled against his father, her head tucked beneath his chin and his hand was around her back. Austin doesn't even have time to cry when he hears the sound of sirens heading down the street. His neighbor must've heard the gun shots, too.

Austin is in shock as he slowly walks towards his parents that are bloody. His father had a bullet to the head and his mother had a bullet to her chest. The blood trail leaking down his father's forehead, tangled inside his eye brows, and dribbled down his nose, lips and chin. Austin can't recognize his face from the red mess. He notices the blood and dripped onto his mother's head. She has a wound to her chest and Austin isn't stupid; he knows that the bullet was in her heart. There was no way they were alive. They were dead. Austin was alone.

Shakily, Austin creeps over to his parents bed and he notices something black on the bed. He picks it up with confusion. The gun. The intruder had left the gun behind. Why would he do that? Was he trying to get caught? Austin didn't know. He looked at his mother again, trying to ignore all the blood that was smothered over her chest that used to be stained with the scent of lavender perfume.

Austin thinks about the intruder. How could somebody just walk in and kill two people? Who would think of that? Austin still hasn't cried yet. He doesn't know when he'll be able, too. He still hasn't wrapped his mind around the fact that his parents are dead and he had been in the house when they were killed. He reenacts the event that must've gone down, trying to piece it together in his mind. He stands with his feet apart, his eye brows furrowed. He holds out his arm straight, pointing the gun at his parents. He sees that it must've been so quick for them. Just as he was about to lower the gun, the door bursts open.

Police only see Austin, standing in front of his bloody, dead parents with a gun pointed at them.

Austin doesn't talk or deny their suspicions. Carefully, police have approached the blonde boy and told him he was under arrest for first degree murder. Austin isn't stupid, he knows what that means: he was going to jail. Austin still doesn't deny anything. He can hardly move. He's stiff when the police push him forward, only glancing at each other with confusion on what would make a young boy shoot his parents. They silently agree that Austin is crazy and needs mental help.

News of this tragic story spreads through the city: Twelve Year Old Boy Shoots Parents. Austin still hasn't denied it and he takes the sentence to jail. Everything is loopy for him; he doesn't quite remember what went down in that house, but he does remember the gun shots. He can't explain to detectives that he didn't do it, instead he admits to it. Numbly, he tells them: "I did it." They ask why, Austin only shrugs. His eyes are lifeless, tagged in with grief that hasn't yet hit him. Austin knows that he will never be a rockstar.

Austin is okay being in jail, because maybe going to jail would take him away from the attackers at school who murder his mind with nicknames and batter his body with their knuckles, knees, and feet. The teachers are so appalled when they are given the call from police that Austin will not be attending school anymore because Austin shot his parents.

Austin learns all kinds of things in jail: How to pick a lock, how to fool somebody, how to gamble, how to smoke, how to fight. Austin is totally different. He hasn't forgot how to play a piano or strum a guitar, but he has forgotten about the rockstar dream. He belongs in jail. It was the one place where he felt like he fit in.

Present day, Austin is now eighteen. He still has never admitted that it was really the intruder who killed his parents. Austin feels more comfortable with people thinking that he did it. Austin earned a new nickname from his jail mates and the people of the city: "Crazy-Lunatic-Boy". Because, really, you would have to be a crazy, lunatic to want to kill your parents despite how wonderful they treated you. Nobody asked Austin if he missed them, nobody asked him if he loved them. The answers would be yes to both of them but Austin doesn't have time to think about all of that junk.

He has become a boy who sits with a cigarette in his mouth while staring at a concrete wall blankly and if he wasn't doing that, he was stealing keys from the jail guards with a smirk plastered to his lips. Jail has really shaped him from his perfect edges and made him into a list of imperfections with psychosomatic issues.

He's thrown into a time of isolation after shoving a jail guard into the fence outside while he, and his other inmates, were doing some intense yard working. But really, Austin didn't care that the guard had been watching him too much, Austin was just tired of being outside and Austin never knew that this witty mistake of being thrown into isolation would save his damn life.

Austin sat in isolation, counting the lines on the wall. Isolation wasn't very fun: it was just sitting in a cold room, no windows, a metal door, concrete walls. You are shut off from everything outside. Austin's isolation normally lasted only a day. He falls asleep on the floor on the cold, cement floor.

He's been awake for a while and Austin knows that it has most definitely been twenty four hours, so get him the hell out of there! He was getting bored and his stomach was growling. Austin opened the small slider that gave him the opportunity to peak outside the door. It was dark. He couldn't see anything. Austin wondered if he was still asleep, but as he searched around with his hands he realized that he wasn't asleep. The electricity was out.

"What the hell," Austin grumbled under his breath. He banged on the door, hoping to get somebody's attention but there was nothing. He realized how eerily quiet it was. Generally, you could hear the creaking pipes or the shouts of something going on in another department of the jail. But not right now. Something wasn't right.

Austin slips his hand through the sliding hole and his hand slaps onto somebody laying on the ground. He jumps back. The body was quite cold. He blinks twice before he reaches out again. He knows that it could only be a guard. His hand searches the guard and finds his belt in the dark. He snatches a set of keys. Austin reaches up towards the door handle. He feels and inserts every key into the lock. It's the second last key that works and the door creaks open. He felt unsure. He had never made it that far before. Somebody always noticed him. Then again, it was very dark in the isolation department.

Austin slips out of the isolation room. He trips over a body and crashes onto the floor. He still can't see. Austin reaches along the guard that he's sure he just tripped over. He feels something cylinder. He searches it with his fingers before a light flicks on. He's holding a flashlight.

"Sick," Austin grins. He moves the light around and points it towards the guard. The guard's face is blistered and pale. Austin frowns in disgust. He wonders what happened. "Almost must happen in a day," Austin mumbles to himself. He shakes his head and looks around with the flashlight. It seems that he had been the only inmate in isolation today.

Austin finds the door and leaves the isolation department. He travels along the empty halls and he still hasn't been caught by any jail guards. "No way," he grins wider. Was this his ticket to freedom? Despite always having to have fit in jail, he did always want to get out of there. Jail isn't a fancy place. You don't exactly want to live there forever.

Austin notices four prison guards on the ground. He frowns again, noticing that they also had blistered and pale faces. They were also dead. "Five dead prison guards..." Austin whispered to himself. He found his way around the jail, running into more dead bodies. Things were looking odd. Austin makes his way around the entire jail. It's taken about an hour and he's starting to get confused. He hadn't seen one person alive. They were all dead. What had happened?

Austin finds his way outside and he drops the flashlight, his lips parting in shock. It's looking like midday, the sun is beating down on him but the wind that blows along his milky skin is making the day slightly cold. The clouds are lumped together in a deathly look and everything outside is _destroyed._

The trees and bushes have been shriveled and burned. The ground is dusty with ash, dirt, and gravel. Austin stiffly steps outside, looking around. He makes his way around the entire jail. His inmates, friends, and the guards are dead. None of them had survived whatever had happened out here. It looked like an atomic blast.

Austin slowly looked around. He glanced up at the sky. Blue, beaming sun, grim clouds. He could not believe what had just happened. He looks behind him and sees the jail building still standing, but there were marks all over it as if a fire had just eaten it with its flames.

Austin makes this his ticket to get out. He walks forward and he's damn sure that nobody is alive. Is he alone? Eventually, Austin sheds of his orange suit and he steals pants and a t-shirt from a prison guard. It feels good to be wearing black pants and a white shirt again. Austin knows that he hates the color orange now.

Austin leaps out into the world and decides to explore around. He decides to search for answers: What had happened? Why didn't it affect him? What was it? Why did it happen?

_Ally Dawson or "The Mental Girl Who Lived Under Floorboards"_

Penny Dawson had beads of sweat gathered on her forehead. In her arms, she held her newborn daughter. Literally newborn: Penny had only given birth moments ago. She ponders her thoughts before her index finger strokes the soft cheek of the child, "Allyson," she whispers softly. The infant sleeps soundly.

"What are we going to do?" questioned Penny, looking over at her husband who was staring at his daughter. They were hidden in a dark room and only praying to God that their capturer didn't walk in on such a precious moment.

"I don't know," Lester Dawson whispered. He was newly married to Penny, nearly only eleven months now. Their wedding was beautiful on a sandy beach with waves crashing behind them as they said their vows. But things never go the way you plan them to; they had planned to have the picture perfect wedding, which they did, and then have a flawless honeymoon, which they didn't.

Literally only being married for four days, they decided to take a walk in the night. A silver car comes racing up beside them. Somebody has tasered them both. They wake in a hollow building with a capturer who finds the fun in drugging this couple and torturing them. He doesn't want much from them, just their lives. He hasn't seemed to take it yet. He must live to watch suffering.

Suddenly, they hadn't seen their capturer in days. Lester and Penny decide they want to love each other completely before he returns; they give love to one another and Penny conceives a child. When Penny makes this discovery, they are pale-faced afraid. Penny hides her pregnancy from their capturer. Penny never grew too big, Allyson was a small baby. Penny manages to hide her tummy with a baggy shirt and a blanket which was provided by the capturer. He never finds out.

Penny and Lester oath that he should never find out about her pregnancy, so when her water breaks, Penny makes herself comfortable in the corner, bites down on the blanket and gives birth to Allyson without making a sound. Lester was astonished by this act of bravery, but it doesn't last long when he gets lost into the grey eyes of his daughter. He couldn't believe they'd made a life.

It was hard to hide Allyson once she was born: she cried, whimpered, gurgled. The new parents had hid their daughter in blankets and behind the small cabinet that their capturer always failed to look behind. They had created a small basinet out of towels and blankets. Ally seemed to like it back there.

It was the most horrifying day when Penny is gently holding Allyson in the middle of the night and Allyson begins to cry. Tears stream down the chubby cheeked child and Lester is frantic, hoping to shush Allyson's sobs by delicately rubbing his thumb against her cheek. Penny bounces her lightly because it used to calm her down. Allyson calms slightly. Penny smiles softly. She pulls out a pen that she had kept with her since the night of their kidnapping and gently starts writing Allyson's name on her chubby arm. She writes A-L-L-Y but never finishes when the door comes swinging open. Their capturer is stunned and confused. He sees an infant that is a month old.

His green eyes darken. He slowly approaches the couple. Their hearts are pounding and not because they are desperate to be outside again, to see the world after being locked away in this room for so long. "What's this?" he growls, he snatches the baby from Penny's arms. Penny cries out and Lester stares up in horror. Their capturer is not gentle with Allyson, he holds her with gripping fingers. Allyson cries a little bit louder.

He cradles the baby in his arms suddenly, holding her tightly. Her cries hush and she stares up at him with furrowed brows as she concentrates on an evil man's face. Penny and Lester keep quiet, watching with horror as he steps away from the couple and slowly places Allyson down onto a set of blankets. He turns around and walks towards the married couple.

He yanks Lester from the floor. Penny cries out and tries to attend to her husband, but their capturer as knocked her to the floor. This can't be happening! But it is.

Lester has fallen to the floor, a knife surged through his guts. He is bleeding externally and internally. Lester passes away after smiling gently at Penny. Penny is weeping loudly. Small Allyson can feel the tension in the room and she knows that something is not right. She begins to cry for her mommy. Her mommy doesn't appear as the capturer grabs Penny and wraps his large hands around her thin neck. He strangles her until the blood vessels in her eyes pop. She drops to the floor, coughing and wheezing. The capturer takes the knife that was in Lester's abdomen, tears out the knife and sinks it into Penny's chest. It's quick and Penny doesn't even have time to blink when her heart has already stopped. The infant in the corner cries louder.

Breathing heavily, the capturer takes swift steps towards Allyson. He picks her up and doesn't cradle her. He is not gentle. His fingers are tight around her small body. The infant feels so mistreated. She is being mistreated. Especially when the capturer walks for a while until he sets Allyson beneath a tree. It's raining outside. Allyson is left to die in the rain.

But there is another man walking through the rain in the middle of the night. He grumbles to himself. Why had he chosen to take a midnight walk? He's walking, walking, walking, walking, walk-stop! There is the faded sound of an infant's cry in the distance.

The man follows the precious, broken sound until he's led into the middle of a woodsy area. He frowns. But there's nobody around? He follows his instinct and keeps walking. His eyes grow large when he sees the infant lying there next to a tree. Her cries are loud and he runs to her.

"Oh, Dearie," he coos, cradling her into his arms. He hides her beneath his jacket. Allyson can feel the warmth of his body and cuddles towards his chest. He knows that she must be getting sick. He ends his midnight, rainy stroll and heads for his home. He lays her down onto a warm bed. Allyson had never felt so comfortable before. She was used to blankets and hard floors. This was nice. He cleans her up from the cold wetness and smiles down at the name scribbled onto her arm. "Hello, Ally," he whispers.

He's so glad that the infant pulls through the next few nights while being very sick. Soon enough, she is well again and she's quite a pleasant to be around. She watches his movements as if she's reading a novel: maybe she's going to be a reader or a writer, the man thinks to himself.

Ally grows and she's a little bit bigger. He's the first person she's ever smiled at. Just a sweet, six month old baby that he cradles in his arms and sings soft lullaby's to. He'd always wanted to be a father. He considered Ally his daughter.

The man knows that if anybody were to hear of Ally's existence they would take her away. He keeps her hidden from anybody. He and Ally live together in a small cottage by a lake. The man's name is John. John isn't exactly father material - he's a fisher, barely making it by on his own. He has to leave Ally at home alone a lot, he's always worried about her but like hell would he let anybody take her away from him. She had become his favourite thing in the world. Ally always seems to sleep through the time periods that he is away and if she wakes and he is not around, she forgives him when he returns because he gives her automatic, unconditional love.

Ally gets bigger and bigger until she's six years old and she's begun to understand John's circumstances. He has mentioned a story that he found her in the woods and that he is not her real father. Ally barely understands but knows enough that she has never met her parents, though she has always wanted to. Ally is very good at keeping herself a secret, John had also mentioned that nobody needed to know about her because they would take her away. Ally doesn't ask why they would do this, but she obeys and stays out of public eye. She swims in the lake like a fish and teaches herself how to sing when she's by herself. John likes poetry, so he taught her a couple things. When John teaches Ally how to read and write, Ally writes endless poems every day.

Ally has become _amazing _at faking an identity. At seven, she's very convincing about her existence. She has fooled the city that she is homeless and they buy it every time. "Who is that young girl playing with those boys over there?" people ask and others respond, "Oh, she's a homeless kid. Cute kid, though." And just like that, life moves on.

But when Ally turns nine, things have speculated about her. She moved along, faking her homelessness but when had she started to exist? They hadn't seen her until she turned seven. Where had she been these last seven years? There are no traces of this young girl. Who is she? Where does she stay at night? Nobody has seen her at the homeless shelter. No homeless man or woman have admitted to this child being their daughter.

"Ally..." John has tears in his eyes. Ally was writing a poem about wanting a puppy when she looked up at John. "I have a situation..." he murmurs. Ally frowns, leaves her sheet of paper and walks towards John. She stands in front of him, studying his face. Why was John so sad? "I can't keep you anymore."

Ally backs away. "But John." she whispers, tears fall from her coffee-colored irises. John nods his head.

"Come here, kid," he whispers, he hugs her tightly and doesn't want to let go. He explains himself: there is no way he can go on taking care of her because he's losing the cottage, they will find out about Ally, he can hardly pay for food, Ally might go hungry, and he doesn't want Ally to live in a foster home so he has an idea.

John knows people. He explained Ally to them and they swear to take care of Ally on their life, but John never realized that people break their trusts. The people that John gave Ally to two doctors working an asylum. John never studied the asylum. He never knew that this was the _worst _asylum in the city.

These doctors keep Ally as a patient but Ally is not mental. At least not when she gets there, but Ally knows that when she leaves that place, she definitely will be mental. Speculations wander around the asylum, too. But nobody must know about Ally Dawson's existence! Ally wonders why. Ally wanted to be given to a family, but they said no. The doctors told her it was all a part of finding her parents. But even as a nine year old, Ally knows they are liars because they shove her under the floor. They told her that she's not supposed to exist, which is funny, because Ally recalls feeling her heart thump against her ribcage and tasting the rain on her tongue.

Ally lives another nine years, pretending that she doesn't exist. She lives under the floor of the asylum. The walls and "her ceiling" are concrete, but the floor is wooden. There is a small lamp the runs on batteries in the corner. They give her new sets of batteries every month. At least they were thoughtful of light. She hears the creaks of feet above her when they walk over top of her. Why don't they just walk over her heart? Maybe it would be less lonely. She sits in the corner, only entertaining herself with the loose threads on her clothes that are wearing down, or pulling at the tangles in her hair. Her only friend is the spider that crawls across the ceiling once in every blue moon. Ally is only thankful that the doctors fed her regularly and properly.

Ally never forgot poetry: in fact, her poetry became music while she lived down in this cold, under floor room. Her nails are brittle and rigid from her scratching lyrics into the wooden flooring beneath her. Her fingers burn and ache, they're blistered. Ally sometimes scratches the lyrics in until her fingers bleed. But they never gave her a pen and her thoughts and feelings are way too loud for her mind to bare.

Present day, Ally Dawson is eighteen. She's sitting on the floor, picking at her nails that are cracked. Maybe she should ask for a pen, she wonders, and some paper too! Ally loses herself in wondering what it would be like to live like a normal kid. To not hide her existence, to be able to walk through malls with a couple best friends, or even better, to play an instrument. Instruments sound nice.

Ally is fully engaged into her thoughts when she feels this force bounce from the concrete wall behind her. She lurches forward and sprawls out onto the floor. Ally pulls herself up from the floor. Her eyes are wide. She hears screaming above her, things crashing, and she can literally feel the pulling force of gravity clawing at her body but it doesn't quite reach her. The ground is shaking. Is this an earth quake? She wonders to herself. She folds up in the corner, holding herself with fear.

It goes on forever. The screaming of agony. Ally is trembling all the way to her bones. It sounded awful. She closed her eyes and covered her ears, trying to shut herself out from all of this. When it's finished and it's just dead silent. Ally is too afraid to move. She stays in her comfort zone beneath the floor. The comfort zone that she prayed she would get the chance to leave.

Her prayer was answer. The next day, Ally isn't so fearful. It's quiet and Ally hasn't heard cries, conversations, or footsteps since whatever blast went off the other day. Ally gulps and crawls toward the small, wooden hatch. She pushes on it but it doesn't let up. Ally punches it, then winces, holding her hand. That idea wasn't very smart. She lays down onto her back and starts kicking the hatch until it springs open. Ally waits for somebody to get mad but nobody approaches.

Ally swallows hard and dusts herself off, despite the fact she looked like she had just been thrown into a washing machine for too long - her clothes were worn down. She hoists herself out of the floor. It's dark. There is no electricity. Ally wanders around and maneuvers around bodies that are laying on the floor. She is confused by the deaths around her, not scared. Ally was right: She is mental by the time she leaves this place.

She makes her rounds through the asylum and there is nothing. No life at all. She is entirely alone. Ally notices light peering through. She follows it and realizes that it's sunlight. Ally's eyes widen and she dashes for it. Nine year without sunlight? Yes, you will be running for it.

Ally makes it towards the window and the light burns her eyes. She holds her hands to her face and stumbles until she hits the wall. She slides down and tries to console herself. It really hurt. She peers through her finger tips and it takes a moment before her eyes are completely used to the incredible amount of light. Ally stares in shock. She looks around. Still nobody. She gets up from the floor.

Slowly, Ally walks towards the door. She opens it and she walks out; she's free. Ally looks around and smells the air. It's beautiful and fresh as it caresses the insides of her lungs. She finally notices something different about the outside. She hadn't forgotten everything. One of the things she didn't forget was that it was not supposed to look like this. Cars were tossed over each other, some were smoking, some engulfed in flames with their alarms sounding. Ash covered the ground as did dust. But Ally's lips curl into a wide smile as she sees the sky. It's blue. The clouds are an off white. She doesn't seem to mind how different the earth looks. She starts her walk, praising God for being able to walk outside. She spreads out her arms and feels the wind along her skin. People have told her that she's not supposed to exist, it must be a lie, because why else would she be here?

But when she pulls herself together. She wonders something: What happened? What was that blast?

_Dez Worthy Or "Anti-Social Computer Master Mind"_

Dez remembers it every day: the sound of his mother groaning and crying out for God's mercy. He stumbles up the stairs to see what the heck is going on. His mother has wrapped her body in a blanket, her lips are turning a pale grey. Dez held onto his nose. His mother had vomited all over the floor and now she collapsed on the couch, moaning about how tired she was and she just needed some sleep. Dez knew something was right. His eyes looked to the coffee table where he sees two pill bottles. He stiffly steps forward and reads the words on the pill bottles. With lots of his struggling, his eight year old mind registers that the label reads SLEEPING PILLS. He looks at his mother. It doesn't matter that he was as young as he was, he knew that you weren't supposed to take _all _of the pills. Especially two bottles. He was used to it though. It wasn't odd for his mother to grab her phone with shaky hands and dial his father's number while she cried out that she must've taken too many pills. She was too weak to call his father today. Dez didn't know what to do. He stood there, feeling a little bit numb.

Her arms have dots all over them from where she'd constantly went for her vaccinations. Well, she told Dez they were vaccinations but he doesn't remember his flu shots making him act the way she always did. He was wondering what kind of vaccinations hers were. She used to grin at him on Saturday Morning's and tell him that she enjoys doing coke lines. Did she mean Coca Cola? Diet Coke?

Dez jumps back with his blue eyes wide when she starts to shake uncontrollably. Her eyes are rolling back and he sees blood running down her chin from her lip. He cringes. Why was she shaking like that? Tears fill his eyes because he doesn't think it's normal for his mother to shake that way. He also doesn't think it's normal for somebody to bite on their lip so hard that it bleeds like that. Something was wrong. Suddenly, her convulsion stops. It takes four minutes before she's awake.

"Mom," Dez murmurs, coming closer. He notices that her forehead shines with beads of sweat. She's wiping her hands at her face, complaining that it's so hot. But Dez shivers because the house is cold. It had been all week.

"Don't call the hospital," she slurs but Dez doesn't understand what she's saying. She is grasping at her stomach, complaining of how bad it was hurting. He's holding his hands tightly towards his chest, he is stiff and awkward. He wonders when his dad will be home because his mother looked really sick. "my legs," she grumbles to herself, her breathing starting to get a little bit heavier, shallow. "Can't feel them," she mumbles. Dez looks down at his legs. He pats his thighs. He could feel his legs. Why couldn't she feel hers?

He stands there, as an awkward-wide-eyed child and he watches her drift, drift, drift away. Her life slips from her own finger tips. When Dez doesn't notice her chest rising and falling, he lays a palm on it. It felt very hollow. Why did it feel hollow? He glances towards her eyes and they are opened slightly so he jumps back. They didn't look right. They didn't have a sinister glint anymore. They were a faded blue, a clouded blue, a dead blue.

Dez's father had returned home that night. Dez hid in his room and pretended as if he never noticed what had happened up stairs. His father yells at him that he should've told him because he knows by the look on his son's face that Dez was there when she passed away, when she over dosed. It wasn't abnormal for his wife to take drugs and it also wasn't abnormal for his son to be so awkward.

Dez's father gulps back a beer after his wife's body was sent to the morgue. He tries to get the image of her out of his mind but it's impossible. He drinks until he's drunk. The beer bottle slips from his finger tips and he lays passed out on the couch. Dez crawls up stairs and peers at his father. When he sees that he is asleep, he knows it's safe to come up for some snacks. Dez helps himself to some candy and chips. He goes into his room and grabs the home phone. He takes it apart, puts it back together, takes it apart, and puts it back together. He repeats this for three hours until his feels like maybe his heart doesn't hurt so much. He knew that his mother had gone away and despite knowing that she wasn't very good to him, he missed her. She used to take him out to candy shops while she met up with her friends.

When Dez is nine, his father doesn't talk to him much anymore. Dez preferred it that way. If he spoke to his dad, his father usually yelled and Dez hated when his dad yelled because, well, it was annoying and it made him feel angry. He runs upstairs and see's his drunk father on the couch, unconscious. Dez reaches across the living room and grabs the DVD player. He takes it apart and puts it together again five times until he is not angry anymore.

When Dez turned ten, his father didn't come home anymore. It was a week before his Aunt called the police with worry. Dez is relieved that his father hadn't been home for a while, but he does get a little sad. It was his dad after all, despite that he hardly talked with him, Dez liked it when his dad would smile at him and let him take his wristwatch apart and put it back together. He used to tell Dez that he was going to be a real help someday. Dez grinned when his father would say that. He loved to help.

Dez was angry that they took him away from his home. He liked that house. His room was big and he had drawn Iron Man on his wall when he was seven and he still liked to look at it. Everyone was very nice to him but they also looked at him oddly when he would only sit in the chair as a huddled mass, picking at his finger nails and avoided talking to anyone. He wasn't very good at talking to anyone. He just shifted his eyes a lot and tried to smile, but his smile was always lopsided. He asks for the police's walkie eventually and he starts taking it apart. The police takes it away from him and doesn't give Dez the chance to explain that he would put it together again. Dez sighs.

When Dez arrives at his first foster home, they are concerned. He doesn't like to talk a lot and he sits awkwardly at the dinner table. The principle calls the parents and explains that Dez left the classroom without asking and that they needed to teach him to start speaking up. Dez murmurs to his foster mom that he was only going to the washroom. Dez didn't know the big commotion, he never had to ask to use the washroom before. He had been homeschooled by his Aunt. Why couldn't he stay with her? child services hadn't allowed it.

By the time Dez is twelve, he has obviously learned how to sit in a desk and ask before leaving the classroom. The teacher's love Dez because he sits quietly and never disrupts the class, but they notice that he doesn't interact with the students and at recess time, he spends the hour on the computer looking at different programs and teaching himself how to fix internet connections. He was a smart boy, but not at social things.

The kids never picked on Dez, but they weren't very nice to him either. He tried to avoid eye contact because when he did make eye contact, people accused him of being the 'weird kid who won't stop staring'. How long do you make eye contact before you look away? They say that it's difficult transitioning from homeschooling to public schooling but that kids will eventually learn how to socialize, Dez never did. He was never awkwardly mute, he did talk every now and again, but he struggled with connecting and/or cooperating with students. Somehow he managed to get the students to dislike him or feel uncomfortable around him. He decided to take apart his calculator and put it back together again. He smiles when his teacher applauds him. She tells him he'll be a great help. It reminds him of his dad and instead of having horrible memories, he remembers with joy.

When Dez is fourteen, he's been through eight different foster homes. Finally, he's staying at one that was easy. He had a sibling named Peter. Peter had autism and Dez found it relaxing. Peter would sometimes act out but Dez could connect with him because Peter also had trouble being in social situations. Dez's foster parents noticed Dez's kind behavior towards Peter and they adopt him legally. Dez is happy in this home. They treat him nicely and they don't push him to socialization. Dez hated being anti social.

Dez teaches his twelve year old brother Peter how to fix a computer software. Peter doesn't quite understand, but Dez smiles because it's okay. Peter gets bored and walks away. Dez focuses on the laptop that his adoptive father had gotten him for his birthday. He picks it apart and messes with wiring. He puts it together again and his computer works a little bit faster. Dez grins with satisfaction.

Present day, Dez is eighteen. He has locked himself in a concrete building. He is concentrated on the computer screens in front of him. This was his happy places, surrounded by technology. Technology had always interested in him. Dez smiled wide and laughed happily when he fixed a hacked computer. "Nobody will get into the system now," he mumbled.

Dez sits back in the comfortable chair when he notices that the concrete room has gotten ten times bright. Alarmed, Dez turns to look out the shatter-proof windows. His eyes go wide and his jaw nearly drops as he looks at the ball of fire that has come out of no where. It's bright, but not bright enough that he needs to look away. He watches with horror. He glances towards the sky where he's figuring it must've come from. It's a meteor. A huge one. One that he's never remembered being taught about. How the heck was it so big as well? It could melt the whole city.

And that's what it does.

The meteor's reflection is inside Dez's oceanic irises. There was an iridescent ring around the glowing, fiery meteor. It looks nearly like an invisible force and he watches it as it takes a moment before shooting out like a laser. It wipes out the entire city. He's sure it stretches out for miles. Maybe even farther. He yelps as he crashes to the ground when the force his the building. Everything shakes and the electricity goes out. It's dark but the window allows in the sunlight that has not disappeared yet. He's scared that the windows will shatter and he's surely going to die but they don't. They remain intact and the concrete building he is in does not fall apart. He's safe in here.

When the shaking comes to a stop, Dez picks himself up from the floor. He reaches for the computers and starts hitting the keys and buttons, trying to get the computers to come back to life but they don't budge. He takes himself away from the computer and walks towards the windows.

Dez presses his palms up against the glass and he immediately jolts backwards, yelping as he clutched his hands that are now stinging. He looks outside. Dez knows it's not safe out there. Not yet. He might just have been the only person to survive that meteor blast.

"It's a damn apocalypse," Dez huffed out, shocked. He peers out the window, careful not to touch it. He's now aware of the heat radiating from it. He knows there must be toxins in the air and it's best not to go outside for most likely a day or so.

There is fire and smoke everywhere. He sees dead bodies along the streets. He's horrified. So many deaths at once. He sees a few buildings that weren't strong enough and had plummeted to the ground, taking the lives of many people. He watches as people walk out from other buildings that had survived this destruction and they immediately start grabbing at their skin and faces before they fall to the ground. It doesn't take long for them to stop moving; they die. Dez nodded slowly. There was definitely something still in the air.

_Trish De La Rosa Or The Angry Girl With a Pocket Knife_

Trish is six when her father calls her into his office. Trish peers inside, smiling at her father. He grins over at his curly haired daughter and motions with his finger for her to come closer. Trish obeys and walks to him. "I have a gift," he tells her and searches his pocket until he finds it. "You need to be careful with this."

Trish confusedly looked at the rod. Her father chuckled. He took it back and showed her how to flick it open. Her eyes go wide and she gasps. He grins at her and sets it into her palm. "Daddy, it's a knife."

"I know that," he says, "It was mine when I was a boy and you're brother is still too young to be handling it. Mom thinks you are too, but I know you are a special young lady." Trish grins at her father when he tells her that. He always made her feel special. "But...I don't want you using this against anyone. Somebody might get hurt badly. The only time we use this is if somebody is hurting us. But I like to carve with it."

"Carve?" she echoed. He chuckled and nodded. He picked up a wooden object. It resembled a starfish.

"This was made out of a woodblock by the lake. I saw a starfish in the ocean as a boy and it came to mind. I made this. Carving helps keep me calm when I am frustrated, it's also a good way to keep busy." he says. Trish slowly nods, staring at the carving before he puts it away into his pocket.

Trish loves the pocket knife. Her father teaches her a few moves of self defense and teaches her how to swing the knife and how to seriously injure somebody with it. He teaches her how to move the blade along an object when she wanted to carve something. Her mother is against this and instead teaches her how to slice fruit and vegetables with it. Trish uses it for all of the above.

Trish eventually puts the knife down and only plays with it at night time when she can't sleep. She doesn't take it to school but she's starting to wonder if she should because the boys at school keeping calling her "chunky" and "fat". Trish knew she wasn't as thin as the pretty girl in her class, but she never used to think she was fat. Trish was hurt. She told her mother and her mother tells her that she used to get it all the time while she was in school as well, but she needed to ignore it and stick her chin up.

When Trish is eight, her mother and father are called for a meeting with principle because Trish had brought the knife to school and flashed it in the middle of class. Her father is upset when he hears that she had threatened a boy with it. The principle is understanding because of Trish getting bullied, but she tells the De La Rosa's that Trish needs to be taught not to use violence.

It doesn't get any better. When Trish is nine, she beats up a little girl. The little girls run into the school with a bloody nose and busted lip. Trish is pleased with her knuckles when the principle is helping her wash them in the school sink. She scolds Trish and tells her that she causes too much trouble. Trish likes being trouble, she thinks it's fun.

"Do you know how to fight?" Trish asks her little brother. JJ looks up at her and shakes his head. He's eight and Trish decides it's time that he learns to fight. "Always curl you fist like this," she demonstrates and he nods, practicing on his own fist, "Always tuck in your thumb, otherwise you'll break it when you hit somebody." JJ takes notes in his mind. "See this," she showed him her pocket knife.

"Dad told you not to bring that anywhere!" he told his bigger sister, eyes wide. She smirks.

"When Dad doesn't know won't hurt him," she says sinisterly. JJ doesn't know what else to do so he laughs because he's got a cool big sister! They're walking alongside the road while she's entertaining him by showing him how to slash the knife and how to hold it properly. He tries a couple times before she takes it back and puts the knife in her pocket.

"Do they still hurt your feelings at school?" questioned JJ. Trish smiled over at him slightly and nodded slowly. She didn't like being soft, but it was JJ, he was the only one who would ever see her get soft. Not even her parents saw her soft side anymore.

"I don't let them bother me anymore, because..." Trish trails off when she's the headlights coming for them in the dark. Her eyes get wide and she's only ten so she doesn't exactly know what to do when the driver swerves towards them. She jumps out of the way, she reaches for JJ but she misses and to her horror, she watches her little brother's body collide with the hood of a red car. Her hands cover her mouth as her eyes are wide and fat tears jump down her cheeks.

JJ De La Rosa lays on the side of the road. He isn't moving and there's a lot of blood. The car pulls the car into a screeching reverse and takes off into the night. Trish doesn't know what to do. She starts to sob as she runs for her brother. "Maniac," she mumbled through her tears as she searches for the car but it's long gone. She looks down to her brother. "JJ.." she shakes him but he doesn't respond. His eyes are slightly opened and they have a lifeless look.

Trish holds him on the side of the road, her shirt is getting bloody as he bleeds onto her and there's so much of it that Trish knows there is no way her brother's heart is still beating. She's breathing heavily, feeling as if she can't get enough air to flow through her lungs. She just lost her brother, her best friend.

It's maybe an hour before a driver driving steadily notices two small kids on the side of the road and her eyes widened as she noticed the little boy and the crying little girl. She stops the car on the side of the road and runs to them, calling 911. Trish weeps. She shouldn't have let him stand so close to the road.

The family grieves heavily for the loss but when noticing Trish's vulgar behavior, they toss her into deep counseling. She was violent before and she is more violent now. The other day, somebody mentioned something about her brother dying and she held a knife against their stomach. It was unbelievable, a ten year old pressing a knife against another ten-year-olds abdomen. Trish De La Rosa has anger management issues.

Even with counseling Trish only ever gets worse. School may have gotten a little bit better, but the bullying was now passive aggressive. They only started to like Trish because she carried that pocket knife with her and always completed the best dares that nobody would think to do. She doesn't listen to the teachers and lives on her own free ticket of doing what she wanted, when she wanted. Mr. and Mrs. De La Rosa are embarrassed by her.

The arsenal of names keeps growing in a thicker dictionary, but Trish ignores it with a smirk and flashes her pocket knife. She sits in the back of glass, playing with it whenever she can and sometimes gets sent to the office for not putting it away. That never bothered her, she continued playing with it and even got asked to like the school grounds because they were nervous around her.

Trish seems to one-up everyone whether it was the students at school, the teachers, or even her own parents. The fights at home got louder and more violent. Her father grabbed her and shoved into the wall one time for Trish flashing the knife at her mother. Trish never meant to flash the knife, it was just something that became a habit. It was her defense mechanism. Trish gets more disobedient as times goes on. She is sixteen when her parents ask her not to come home anymore. They make sure she knows that they love her, but Trish thinks: If they love me, why would they abandon me?

Trish stays on her own, clutching her knife. She stays with friends, with cousins, and then casually sneaks her way into bars. How she always got in was beyond her. Nobody ever approached her and asked for her age though. Of course they wouldn't, she always had her knife on display.

Present day, Trish is eighteen. Her hide out is in a storm cellar across from an abandoned highway. It's more like her home now. She got a job as a waitress and she worked there for a while, earning herself some money to buy food and a mattress. Trish is miserable and angry with the entire world.

Trish is laying on her mattress when she rolls off of it due to the ground shaking. Trish's eyes widened. She hides in the corner of the storm cellar. The small light bulb that often hung from the ceiling goes out. It's completely dark. It's a good thing Trish kept a flashlight. She grips it and turns it on. She wonders what is going on out there but doesn't think to ask herself about it.

The ground eventually stops shaking and she doesn't have the courage to go outside. Despite how angry and daring she is, she isn't going out after what she'd just felt. She curls up on her mattress and forces herself to sleep. She drifts away into a soft slumber.

When she wakes again, she senses the light peeking through the storm cellar door. She creeps up the stairs and opens the door. It's extremely hot today. It feels nice on her skin. Her eyes widened at the abandoned high way. It was cracked and lumpy. What the hell happened?! Trish ventures out into the world, noticing how destroyed everything was. The area was practically vacant as she travelled towards the city. Was she the only one still alive?

Trish pulled out her pocket knife for comfort and continued walking. She wondered what was going on. What had happened? Why had it happened? When had it happened? She recalls the shaking in the cellar. She knows whatever happened, it wasn't good.

**LONGEST CHAPTER I HAVE EVER WRITTEN, DEAR GOD.**

**So, yeah, chapter one is an introduction to our main characters...I wanted you to know the background of them and how they experienced the "destruction". I know I have three other stories going on but who the heck cares? I don't. My mind is exploding with thoughts and sometimes I gotta write them out. So, I figured I'd go for an apocapyse story because they interest me..**

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**CAUSE I LOVE WHEN YOU DO THAT.**

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**P.S. This wasn't proof read. I don't know why I still mention it, but yeah.**


	2. Chapter 2

Ally flinches as she moves swiftly along the pavement. She doesn't have any shoes. She felt like she was walking on hot rocks. She cringed and flinched, stepping on rocks, glass, and typically anything left behind from the blast. Her feet were starting to scrape, burn, and bleed. Though, Ally had a high pain tolerance so the hotness against her bare feet didn't bother her.

Ally looks around. The city was completely torn apart and Ally was grimacing as she looked upon the dead bodies. It wasn't too awful to see, most of the bodies had been burned to the bone. Whatever this blast was, it was hot and it was toxic. Ally wondered if the air was still contaminated but she figures it isn't or else she probably wouldn't be alive and breathing right now.

Ally wanders down the streets that are buried in ashes, dirt, and dust. She winces when she can feel her blisters and cuts dirtying within each step. She gasps lightly when something burns her foot. She leaps backwards and grabs her foot. She observes it. Her feet didn't look to awful, but she had stepped on an ash that was still hot. "Fire?" she frowned. Whatever exploded was hot and intoxicated with something poisonous. It wasn't rocket science, it was very obvious.

Ally ignored the pain that throbbed in her feet and continued walking. She dodged as much danger as she could. She was completely alone. She gulped. Ally knew she was half-way mental already. The only socialization she ever had was when the asylum doctors gave her meals or let her bathe. The last time she really had the freedom to talk to anyone, to socialize, she was nine. Do you know what the mind does when you're alone for that long? With nobody to speak to? Nobody to touch or hold? The mind goes insane. Literally. Ally has experienced voices and hallucinations, all gathered into her mind. Sometimes to keep herself from going completely mad, she had to talk to herself. Writing song lyrics along the walls and softly singing the lyrics helped her as well.

Ally couldn't help but feel stupid as she glanced around. She only had a small education to the third or fourth grade level. John had been her teacher, obviously. Ally didn't know much, but she knew that she must be smart because she always seemed to work out problems in her head. She picked up conversations from above her while she was under the floor.

Ally looks up at the sky. The sun was hot on her skin. She could feel herself starting to sweat. There wasn't even a breeze. Ally figures she should find her way near the ocean. She recalls going there when she was a child. She smiles at the memory. She can't wait to see the entire city again - even if it is destroyed. She wanted to walk around until she couldn't walk anymore, she wanted to gaze at everything until her eye balls shriveled up. Nine years away from civilization, socialization, and the entire world, nine years kept in a small room that was dimmed and dark, and you really learn how to miss the world. Ally always wondered if anybody noticed her disappearance. Had the world missed her as well?

She's still walking alongside a building, gazing up at the sky with her neck aching when she suddenly hits something hard and the impact sent her crashing to the pavement. Ally's heart rate picked up as she's on the ground. She still doesn't mind how the pavement is burning her palms. She slowly peers up and is shocked to see another person. Somebody else had survived?

"You're...You're alive..." The blonde boy that she collided with sputtered out. Ally slowly nodded. _How do you talk again?_ she wonders to herself because she really has never talked to anyone other than the walls since she was nine. He stares at her for a moment before deciding that this run-down looking girl needed a hand. He reaches out for her. She stares at his hand blankly. What was he doing? "You got a name?" he asked.

Ally had her fourth grade education still intact with her brain so she thinks to herself: It's 'Do you _have _a name?' She wants to correct him but she can't get her mouth to move. She doesn't quite remember how to communicate with another person. But she does know the answer to his question. Shyly and softly, she murmurs, "Ally." She never really was given a last name. She remembers John telling her as a kid that her parents had only written her first name on her arm when she was a baby the night he found her. He had always mentioned that she could use his last name, but she always forgot how to pronounce it as a child so eventually the memory of what it was had faded.

The blonde realizes that she's not going to take his hand so he curls it into a fist and drops it to his side. "I'm Austin," he said, "How did you survive this?"

Ally gazes at her surroundings. She's stuck in awe again as she remembers that she is no longer locked away underground, beneath those stupid floorboards of that treacherous asylum. As Austin waits for her to reply, he notices the look in her eyes. The way she's looking at the sky, the ground, _everything _, as if she'd never seen it before. He decides that she's most likely in shock. Maybe she'd survived the blast for some miraculous reason and whatever happened to everyone hadn't affected her. Maybe she's one of those odd lucky ones that never seem to die when they're supposed to. Maybe he was one, too.

Austin doesn't want to tell her how he survived. He knows if she discovers that he was a prisoner, she'll most likely run for the hills and he knows that she is the only other person here and they'll probably need to stick together. Austin clears his throat and Ally's brown eyes focus on his again. "Um...I'm not sure what happened, but we're lucky and I think that we need to stick together."

Ally doesn't know how else to respond so she just nods. Ally decides that the pavement is starting to get really,_ really_ hot so she gets up from the ground on her own. She dusts herself off and Austin notices her attire. Her clothes looked too small for her, they were ripped and dirty. She didn't have any shoes on and he could see the small stains of blood that were drying to them. Her hair was matted, although not greasy. Her face had smudges and smears of dirt along her jaw line, looking like bruises.

"Uh...Maybe we should get you...cleaned up?" Austin said. Ally looked at him and slowly nodded. She really did want some shoes. "Come on," he said, "I passed a clothing store just a few seconds ago."

Ally didn't speak to Austin as they walked down the street. Austin stopped attempting conversation with Ally when he realized that she wouldn't speak up. _She must be traumatized or something_, Austin thinks to himself.

"Right here," Austin said. The building was half collapsed, but still standing. Austin grabbed the door. It was warm, but it wasn't hot enough to burn him. He opened it for Ally to walk in first. After six years in jail, he assumed he would have forgotten manners but he never did. Ally didn't step inside. "Go on," Austin motioned, getting slightly annoyed with her odd behavior.

"We can...We can go in?" she questioned, softly.

Austin shifted his eyes, "I don't see why not. We're the only ones here."

Ally hesitated before she nodded and stepped through the door. She timidly looked around as she fought her way through the broken down, falling apart store. Austin helped her shove away shelves. Ally looked around the store. She didn't really know what to take or what her size was for that matter. The doctors had always tossed in new clothes, most of them hadn't fit her.

"Just take anything," Austin said, noticing how slow and hesitant she was being. He rolled his eyes and wondered how he was going to deal with her. She seemed awkward, shy, and (no offense) but, kinda mental. Ally felt mental. She didn't understand anything. She was better off exploring on her own where she wouldn't look stupid, but she knew Austin wanted to stick together, as he'd said before.

Ally grabbed a blue shirt. It was plain. Ally didn't exactly know what looked good and what didn't. The lamp in the small underground room of the asylum was never too bright. She could hardly see anything. Sometimes she had to hold up the lamp to the walls and floors just so she could read the lyrics she'd been writing. Ally reached for a pair of jeans, but they looked too big so she set them down.

Austin watched her struggle. His eye brows furrowed together. _It's like she's never chosen her own clothes before_, Austin thought. A few other thoughts ran through his head. He then considered a couple of them, like: Maybe she's autistic/handicapped, maybe she hit her head during the blast, maybe she really is traumatized and very badly at that.

Austin studied her. She didn't seem handicapped and she didn't have any serious injuries. But he wondered why she was dirty. Getting impatient, he reached for a pair of jeans and held them in front of her. "Yeah, this looks like a good size for you," he tossed them at her. Ally caught them and looked at them. They were faded jeans and she kind of liked them. She never shopped before. It was kind of cool. She took a look at the blue shirt. "That's pretty much your size, too. Now hurry and find shoes. We should look for survivors." Austin snapped. Ally also caught the pair of socks he'd tossed at her.

Ally looked at him, studying his face for a moment before nodding. She searched around the store before she found a shelf full of shoes. She recalled always wanted to wear high heels as a kid but she definitely knew she wouldn't be wearing them ever. She had never learned to walk in them, obviously. Ally gravitated towards the pair of black Chuck Taylor's in the back. She pulled out the stuffing inside the shoes and untied the laces. She pulled the comfortable socks over her blistered feet and slipped her feet into the Chuck Taylor's. She figured they fit because they felt snug and they weren't hurting her feet. She then realized one more thing: she didn't know how to tie laces.

"What are you doing?" Austin questioned, noticing that she was taking off the shoes. _They looked nice, they fit, is she seriously gonna think about her taste in shoes when the world seems to have come to an end?!_ he thought sourly. Ally stopped taking off the shoes as she looked up at him. She looked so lost, like a child who was separated from their mother in a huge mall. "Just tie the laces and let's get going," he said, impatiently.

"I...um..." Ally murmured, but her voice was so low Austin didn't even hear her mumbles. She pulled her feet up and decided to use logic. She tugged on the laces and felt them tighten around her feet. _That felt better_, she thought. She crossed the two strings and tugged one through the loop. Her fingers stopped moving. _What goes after this? _she wondered.

Austin stared at her. He watched her face and saw the way she twitched her fingers and her eyes looked faded as she was drifted into a deep thought. Austin frowned, because it was very obvious that she had no idea how to tie laces. "For the love of all that is good," he growled. He crouched down in front of her and took her foot into his lap. He tied the laces tight and did the same to her opposite foot.

"Thank you," she mumbled. John had always mentioned that when you are given help, you should always be polite and thank the person who had done the good deed. Austin looked at her with arched eye brows before he slowly got off the floor.

"Yeah," he mumbled, shaking his head. He was curious as to why she hadn't known how to tie laces. She had to be at least his age, maybe younger. As he started walking, Ally jumped up following closely behind.

Austin looked up when the walls started to shake and rumble. Dirt particles started to flutter to the ground from the roof. "Oh no," he grumbled. He reached behind him and gripped Ally's arm. He dashed out of the store with Ally.

Austin ran with Ally into the middle of the street and tugged her close to his body as they watched the building collapse. They stared at it for a moment. Austin only thanking God that they weren't in there because he knew they would've been dead. Austin looked at Ally. She stared blankly like she couldn't figure any of this out. He shook his head. She was weird.

"Let's move," he growled, releasing his hold on her and starting to walk down the street. He didn't mean to be so miserable but Ally frustrated him. She was stupid. Literally. She barely spoke, she didn't let him help her up from the ground, she couldn't figure out how to shop properly, and she didn't know how to tie shoes. Austin was appalled.

"Go change," Austin demanded, "Behind that building. Go."

Ally glanced at him before nodding. She hurried away behind the building. The jeans fit her perfectly and Ally had no idea being in clothes that were clean and fit felt so nice. The shirt was slightly big on her but it was better than wearing those tight, torn up shirts. She felt a little bit fresher. She rejoined Austin who was kicking at things as he tried to find other survivors.

He heard the sound of her feet scraping along gravel. He glanced over at her. Well, now she looked a little bit more presentable. "We need to see if anyone else is around. I found you so I'm sure that somebody else might have survived."

"They...They might not have," Ally stammered. Austin arched his eye brows at her, a little bit surprised that she actually responded with her voice. She glanced around at the dead bodies and skeletons around them.

"Well, you survived it somehow, so others might have, too." Austin said.

"So did you," she murmured.

"Yeah, but I was...in a place where it couldn't affect me, I guess." Austin said.

"Me, too," Ally replied quietly.

"Wait...So you weren't out here when it happened?" he questioned. Ally slowly shook her head. Austin stared at her for a moment before nodding. _If she wasn't out here when the blast happened, why does she behave that way? Why does she look so unkempt? What's wrong with her? _Austin wondered. He knew she couldn't be handicapped, she didn't look it, and she spoke smoothly. He knew she always seemed confused, but not confused enough to be a handicapped type of confused.

"We should still look," Austin told her. Ally nodded. Austin realized he hadn't eaten since yesterday. He was hungry. "When was the last time you ate?" he asked her as they walked down the ash-covered street.

Ally shrugged timidly at his question and looked away from his gaze. Ally remembers sleeping five times so that must mean that five days have passed since she'd eaten last. She wasn't sure, though. She always wondered what time it was or what day, even what month. She was never exactly given those details sitting in that underground space.

Austin looked at her before rolling his eyes, shaking his head and muttering, "For the love of God." Austin didn't understand why she couldn't just answer him. Ally was starting to piss him off. She was being ridiculous. There was no time for shyness or being timid. They needed to survive and to survive, they had to communicate. If she can't communicate, how does he know she's reliable?

"Let's see if we can find a restaurant or something. They should have something in the kitchens." Austin said. Ally slowly nodded. She followed Austin along the streets. It was eerily quiet along the streets. Both Austin and Ally were unfamiliar with it. Austin was so used to hearing the shouts, cries, and fights of prisoners and Ally was so used to hearing nearly the same but of mental patients and, of course, the unsteady footsteps that had always been stomping above her.

Austin looked up at the sky, squinting his eyes. He really hoped it would cool down soon. He knew there was no place to get air conditioning and he was getting super hot. Austin also hoped that this wasn't it; he didn't want to die. The same thought crossed Ally's mind; there was no way she was going to let herself die. She didn't live nine years of her life under floor boards for nothing!

"Perfect," Austin grinned, seeing the Subway shop. Ally looked at the store and followed Austin inside. It was pretty much okay. The glass had been blown out, the roof was caved in but the walls were still standing and holding strong. Austin and Ally maneuvered their steps around the mess of the caved ceilings, glass, and bodies/skeletons.

Ally knew she was mental, because none of this seemed to disturb her. You'd think finding a skeleton everywhere you turned would bother a person, but it just didn't seem to affect Ally. She literally felt nothing. She was totally disconnected, and she hated that. She felt a little bit better when Austin hadn't seemed to cringe or grimace while seeing the skeletons either.

"I think the food might be okay," Austin said, "Do you know if there's a way to tell?"

Ally looked at him and slowly peaked at the vegetables that were sitting in trays. She realized that this was a sandwich shop. She hadn't had a sandwich for nine years. She's forgotten the taste of bread, or fresh tomatoes, and even peppers. The doctors had always tossed a servings of chicken, mashed potatoes, rotten fruit, and peas onto a plate and served it to her inside old, plastic containers.

Ally glanced at him, just to watch him roll his cappuccino irises, "Of course you don't know." he scowled. Ally didn't reply but she wanted to growl at him and say: _Well, shouldn't you? You've been in school!_ But she stays silent instead.

Ally's eyes widen as Austin shrugs and tosses a tomato into his mouth and chews it not very carefully. Austin catches her wide-eyed gaze and smirks at her. He swallows the tomato. "Nope. Safe." he said. Ally knew that the food must be safe, if it hadn't been, it would've burned his mouth or something. She was pretty sure he would taste it, too. She assumed the food would've looked awful as well, which it didn't.

Austin searched around the counter, tossing bread onto the counter and sprinkling _everything _onto his sandwich. Ally watched carefully how he made his sandwich. She's never done any of that before. She's practically still nine trapped in a young adults body.

"Well?" Austin pressed, "Aren't you hungry?"

She was, but she was afraid to make her sandwich. She would only humiliate herself again and Austin already thought she was a freak. Why push it any further?

Austin assumes she's afraid too eat the sandwich. "The food is fine - not poisoned at all... I promise." he told her with his mouth full. He watches Ally just stare back at him. She doesn't expect him to give her his sandwich so when he pushes it towards her, she looks at him alarmed. "Take it. You should eat." What he means is: _You look malnourished and ready to pass out from starvation, take the damn sandwich_. Ally was very thin and when the sun beamed down on her pale skin, it wrapped its light around the edges and curves of her skin where he could nearly count all the bones beneath her flesh. He felt a little bit sad that she was that unhealthy.

Begrudgingly, Ally reaches her delicate hand out and takes the sandwich. Austin immediately busies himself into making another sandwich, rejoicing when he finds more toppings. Ally stared at the sandwich. She couldn't recall the last one she'd eaten, but she knew it was good because John was pretty good at making her happy. She takes a bite and her mouth waters. It's so good. She doesn't moan in delight, but she wants to.

Austin is right; the food isn't contaminated. Ally knew this by its juiciness and greedily inhales the food until she's, for the first time, satisfied with what's she eaten. It's not rotten, or soggy, or half-frozen. It's fresh and her stomach gurgles delightfully.

Austin eventually finishes his sandwich as well. He hadn't realized how much he'd missed real food. Prison food is not real food. It's a lame excuse for food purposefully made to force the male prisoners to rethink their lifestyle and only have daydreams about juicy steak and cooked beans, or pizza with one hundred thousand toppings. Austin has nearly forgotten the taste of pizza. He hasn't had it since a few nights before his parents passed. The thought of his parents makes his stomach twist with anger. He couldn't believe he allowed himself to take the blame. He thought one thing about himself: _What a coward._

Ally was watching Austin. She noticed the way his eyes that were sparkling with delight had darkened into a look of anger and hate. He must've been thinking about something upsetting, Ally decides. She waits for him to speak up because they have both silently agreed that Austin is calling all of the shots.

"We need to keep looking for survivors," he tells Ally while exiting the subway shop. It seems to be the only plan he's got right now.

Ally nods. The only thing Austin liked about this Ally girl was the fact that she listened and didn't argue. The shyness and miscommunication side of her really pissed him off, but there wasn't much he could do about it.

He wasn't sure how long they walked, but it was long enough that his legs were aching and he could see Ally shaking beside him, exhausted by walking and by the sun's heat. "We should sit." Austin said. Ally nodded, following him until they dropped down beside a tree because that was all they had right now. It was dead. What a surprise.

Ally sat next to him with her hands in her lap. She wished she knew how to communicate properly. She wished that John had never sent her to that asylum. She's forever haunted. It wasn't an ordinary asylum meant for the crazies - Well, it was - but Ally never ignored the abuse she knew went on in there. The way the doctors treated the patients. She was sure they were the reason patients acted out so badly. After all, they couldn't be trusted, they had locked her under the floor. She doesn't recall ever having a conversation for nine years. The doctors never exactly spoke with her unless it was when they told her she was allowed to bathe.

"So, how old are you?" Austin questioned, breaking the wary silence.

John had always made up the date of her birthday and Ally never knew when it passed. She asked softly, "What year is it?"

Austin looked over at her oddly, "Um...It's 2014," he said, arching an eye brow.

Ally slowly nodded, staring down at her new Chuck Taylor's. She thought for a moment before she whispered, "Then I'm 18."

Austin was concerned. How did she not know the year or the time? His eyes widened. What if she was in the hospital? Maybe she's some sort of amnesia patient, or a patient recovering from something serious and-_Oh Gosh, the hospital! _That place is a built of thick cement and brick! There could be multiple survivors!

"How old are you?" Ally murmured softly.

Austin glanced at her, "18. But we gotta go," Austin said, jumping up from the ground. Ally looked up at him. He didn't even wait for her when he started walking. Ally got up and followed behind him. "We never found the hospital. We've gotta get there and check for survivors. That place is built out of pure cement and I'm pretty sure the cement is what saved me from dying. Probably you, too."

Ally nodded.

As they're walking, Austin glances over and sees a car parked along the road. He bit his lip. There's a chance that the car could still work. He really didn't want to walk anymore. "This way," he ordered and walked towards the car. He's never exactly driven a car before but he was sure it wasn't too hard.

Ally sees what he wants to do. She breathes relief, because her feet were really hurting now. Ally folds her arm in front of her chest as Austin opens the door that was partially broken and didn't quite shut all the way anymore. He crouches inside the driver's side. Ally doesn't quite know what he's doing, but she hears a lot of noise before a gruff 'aha!' escapes his mouth, pause, then the ignition is going.

Austin grinned. Hotwiring really was a need to know-how. He glances back at Ally and sees her standing there. "Hotwired," he smirked, "Get in."

Ally obeys and makes her way into the passenger side. The windows of the car were broken and the red paint was chipped. The tires smelt awful, but she was sure that it was drivable. After all, it did still work. In the cup holder, there was still a coffee mug and a small flamingo ornament hung from the rear view mirror. The last time Ally was in a car was in John's rundown Chevy.

"I'm going to be honest, I've never exactly done this before but it's this or walking," Austin said to her, clutching the wheel. Driving a car really did feel natural, Austin was sure it shouldn't be too hard.

Ally's face paled. "Um, Let's walk," she chewed on the inside of her cheek.

Austin looked at her and smirked, "You can. I'm driving."

Ally gripped the door handle about to get out of the car before she valued her choices. If she got out, she might never see Austin again and she really knew that it was best if she stuck with somebody during this crisis. She holds a deep breath before releasing her finger tips from the door. Austin grins victoriously.

"Be careful," she whispers, because really, these two just survived a blast from what seemed to be a huge fireball. It would be a shame if they died due to Austin's driving.

"What's life without adrenaline?" Austin questioned rhetorically, chuckling to himself. Ally nodded her head slowly and curled her toes as she braced herself. Austin took a deep breath. He put the gear shift into drive. He pressed his foot down on the accelerator, his eyes widening. He slams his foot on the brake and they come to an immediate stop. Ally gripped the door and her blood felt cold. "I guess you're not supposed to step that hard," he mumbled.

Ally prayed to God that nothing bad was going to happen. She tried to relax back into the seat, but how could relax when an uneducated driver was trying to drive? This time Austin pressed on the accelerator very softly and they moved a couple inches.

"Better...Better..." Austin murmured to himself, stepping a little harder. He steered the wheel and the car moved smoothly along the dusty streets. It wasn't too hard after he got comfortable. He felt himself relax now because he knew he had control.

He drove a little faster than that and finally Ally was able to relax. It wasn't like there was anything else on the streets, they were entirely empty. With that thought, Ally waited to be jinxed with something getting in their way but nothing happened. Roads were clear, besides the few dead bodies Austin skillfully moved around.

Austin didn't exactly know the way to the hospital, so he just took random roads which eventually led him there. Ally looked up at the tall building. It was standing and firm, but the glass was shattered. He stopped the car right in front of the hospital. He unbuckled his seatbelt. He stepped out of the car and realized that Ally hadn't moved. He walked up to the shattered car window.

"You coming?" he questioned, "We should probably split up and look around."

Ally looked at him before she looked back towards the large hospital. What if it collapsed? They would be crushed and they might die. She spent her whole life pretending not to exist, why would she take a stab at really not existing?

Austin saw the hesitation in her gaze. "Alright then," he said, "I'll go. You can wait here." Austin started walking towards the building. Ally bit hard on her lip before she stepped out of the car. Austin glanced back hearing the squeak of the door. He smirked lazily at her, "Couldn't resist the suspense, huh?"

Ally didn't reply, she followed him inside. It was dark and very difficult to see. She noticed the bodies lying on the ground. Austin and Ally both felt the fluttering hope in their hearts fill with despair. There was no way there were any survivors, but that didn't keep them from looking.

"I'll go this way, you go that way. We meet here again in twenty minutes and we'll check all of the floors." Austin said. Ally slowly nodded and started to wander off. Austin watched her wander before shaking his head. _She was so weird._

Ally wandered along the dark halls. The dark didn't bother her. She had become so used to squinting her eyes, feeling her way, moving carefully. It wasn't foreign to her. She dragged her finger tips along the walls of the hospital. She smelt an odd aroma in the air. It nearly smelt like the asylum. She crinkled her nose at the scent of disinfectant, tools, and medicine that lingered in the air. Suddenly, Ally trips and sprawls all over the floor.

Ally gasped and scrambled into a fetal position. It was something she normally did when she was scared, as if it were to protect her from anything that was trying to bring her harm. Ally realizes that there was no other sound around her other than her heavy breathing. She pulls her head away from its tucked position in her knees. The windows that currently had no glass in them gave her enough light to see around her. She saw more dead bodies, she'd tripped over them, too. Ally took a deep breath and looked around. She had never been in a hospital before. Even when she was eleven and needed her appendix removed. The doctors at the asylum did the duty, which was not something Ally would ever want to relive. She cringes at the thought of how much pain she had been in.

She picks herself up from the floor and looks around. She jumps, for a moment just swearing to herself that somebody had been standing her but as her vision collects itself again, there is no one there. Ally took a deep breath. Her mind played tricks on her often, but that is what happens when you slowly get driven insane from excessive isolation.

Ally notices the broken clock hanging on the wall. It doesn't tick anymore. The small hand was stuck on the five and the larger hand was stuck on the eleven. Ally wished she could tell time. John used to have a digital watch strapped around his wrist. Ally never fully learned how to tell time and she guessed she didn't care because there was no point in her learning when time would never matter in her life. Austin told her to be back in twenty minutes. Ally wondered how long that would be.

Ally browses around a little bit more, peeking inside rooms but all that's left is debris and skeletons. Some of the bodies were even disintegrated into nothing but small dust particles, lying on beds or sitting on chairs. There was no life anymore. It was a lonely feeling. Despite the loneliness Ally battled while living under those floorboards, she realized that knowing there was nobody anymore was lonely. Ally decided to find Austin again.

Austin was wandering down the halls. He checked inside rooms before sighing. There was nothing at all. He'd never felt so hopeless before. _And I thought being in jail was lonely_, Austin thought to himself because really, there isn't a more lonely feeling than when you realize there is no life around. It was just him and Ally.

Austin gives up on this floor. He turns around and jumps backwards, clutching at his chest. Two brown eyes were waiting right behind him. Austin closes his eyes and breathes out heavily, trying to calm his heart rate. "Ally, don't do that," he muttered. Ally's cheeks feel warm, but Austin can't see the pinkness to them due to how dark it was. "Nothing here. You?" he watched Ally shake her head. "Let's check all the floors."

So that's what they did. Together they searched every single floor until they were panting and sweating. The elevators weren't working and to be honest, Austin wouldn't of gotten in one even if they were. He didn't plan on getting stuck in an elevator and dying from starvation and dehydration, or even falling to his doom.

Austin can hear the patter of Ally's feet following him down the stairs that they were taking. She seemed so used to the dark. He had stumbled a few times, but Ally was always able to walk so smoothly in the darkness. She didn't even seem to mind that the dark was a huge strain on the eyes. Austin shook of his curiosity as he led them out of the building.

"So, that was pointless," Austin sighed, "I don't understand. It's cement. Why didn't anybody survive?"

"There's windows," Ally murmured. Austin hadn't expected her to reply. He glanced at her before looking at the building and he realized she was onto something. Whatever happened, it had gotten through the windows and killed everyone in the building. He recalled the prison. Wherever there was a window, there was a dead body. Austin had been in a closed in space, causing him to survive. That means Ally must've been in a closed in space.

Austin got curious as he sat in the car with Ally again. He looked over at her, "Ally, where were you?" he questioned, "When_ this_ happened," he elaborated.

Ally glanced over at him, "Where were you?" she asked softly.

He studied her face for a moment before muttering, "Touché." Austin reached down and managed to hotwire the car for a second time. It started up and he carefully put the car into drive, slowly taking off down the street.

From Austin's peripheral vision, he sees Ally stiffen and peer further out the window. "What?" he questions, glancing over at her. Just as he did this, he sees a red headed boy wandering around with a limp. He stops the car immediately. The screeching of the tires grabs the strangers attention. He looks stunned to see them. Austin puts the car into park and jumps out of the vehicle.

"Hey, you!" Austin shouts, "You're alive!"

The redhead isn't so sure what to do. He shifts onto his right leg, his stance awkward and stiff. "Yeah," he manages to choke out. Despite his struggles with people skills, he knew having another person would be the best thing.

"I'm Austin," the blonde haired boy shouted over to him.

"Dez." Awkwardly, the ginger walked towards Austin. Austin was thrilled that it wasn't just him and Ally anymore. He was sure that Ally would drive him crazy with her habit of talking so low that you had to strain to hear her.

Austin pointed his thumb over his shoulder, "That's Ally in the car. I hotwired this car. Do you want to come with us? I think we should stick together - with anybody we find." Austin told Dez. Dez hesitated before he nodded, because the blonde was completely right.

Dez stiffly follows Austin towards the car. He shuffles into the backseat while Austin hops into the driver's side.

When Austin doesn't see any attempt of an introduction from Dez, Austin inwardly groans but forces a small grin, "Ally this is Dez."

Ally slowly looks over her shoulder and gives Dez a soft glance, waving her fingers slightly. Dez tries to give her a smile, but it comes out like more of a grimace. Austin feels like he was just punched in the gut as he thinks to himself: _Oh, for god's sake, they're both shy and awkward. _He pauses before silently adding, _Well, At least this Dez guy talks._

Austin slowly starts to drive, "Ally and I have just been looking around for anything. If the three of us are alive, there might be a chance that there's more people around. The more, the better." Austin said, "I sure wish I knew what caused all of this."

Dez was playing with his fingers to keep himself distracted when he'd heard what Austin had said, "I know what did it," he gulped. This was the most conversation with a normal person that he's ever made. He was a little bit proud of himself. Austin looked at him with wide eyes through the mirror.

"You do?" Austin gawked.

Dez stiffly nodded, "I was...I was in a building. It didn't shatter the glass from where I was. I saw the whole thing. It was like a big meteor or something," Dez chewed on his lip. Austin shook his head in disbelief.

"So, it's the end of the world?" Austin questioned.

"I don't know," Dez shrugged. Austin clutched the wheel tightly. This couldn't be the end of the world, could it? He wasn't ready to die. He barely got to live yet! He felt angry. If that intruder had just left his family alone, he would've been able to live the last years of this earth fully, and his parents would still be alive.

Austin glances over at Ally who shifts uncomfortably. He can tell that she's bothered by the subject. "Keep your eyes opened," he ordered, "I don't want to miss anyone."

Dez and Ally both nodded, staring out the windows as their gazes scraped across the dusty land. It was silent before Austin said, "Do you think it's just Miami?"

Dez looked at Austin through the mirror before he shook his head, "No," he answered honestly. Austin nodded his head, filling his lungs with air deeply. No more conversation is spoken, allowing Dez to relax and Austin to dive into deep thought. Ally just viewed the city as it passed by, a small smile on her face. She had always tried to remember when the city had looked like, she forgot how beautiful it was.


	3. Chapter 3

"Have you eaten?" Austin questioned Dez, staring at him through the rear view mirror. Dez shook his head. "Maybe we should get you something to eat. We found a subway shop and the food was perfectly fine-"

"No," Dez spat, staring out his window. Austin hadn't quit talking for a long time and he was aggravated. Dez's thumb was aching from a hang nail that he had been picking at trying to keep himself from slugging Austin over the head with an angry fist.

"No?" Austin echoed, looking at him with raised eye brows. Dez looked at Austin's gaze through the mirror.

"I'm perfectly fine," Dez told him, his voice laced with irritation. "Besides, it's dark out. It's probably at least around eleven at night. You shouldn't eat when it's dark."

Austin laughed slightly, "You're gonna worry about that when the _whole_ _damn world is falling apart_?" Austin questioned, his voice growing acidic by the time he reached the end of his question. He clenched the steering wheel with white knuckles. "You know, you should probably eat so you don't cause us any problems that we don't want to deal with."

"Like you said: the whole damn world is falling apart, even if I don't eat for an entire month, nothing will be worse than what's happening right now," Dez replied nonchalantly. He personally wasn't hungry. His family was dead - most of the human race, too. He was also stuck in a car with a blonde boy who doesn't keep his mouth shut and a girl who looked like she'd just been scraped up from beneath a garbage can.

_I think I am the only sane one_, Austin thought to himself. Ally hardly spoke and she didn't know how to do pretty much anything, then Dez hated conversation it seemed and when he did speak to Austin, it was only to snap at him and be angry. Austin felt like he deserved a little more respect than he was been given from the two. After all, he was leading them and trying to keep them alive.

The car was totally silent. Dez stared out the window, still looking for any survivors (secretly, he hoped there were none), Austin was in deep thought, driving around the entire city for the sixth time that day, and Ally was asleep, her head leaned against the door, the wind grabbing at a few strands of her tangled hair.

"You turned." Dez stated, looking at Austin. Austin looked at him through the mirror, he nodded his head and gave him a sarcastic smile.

"Thanks for the update," he spat at the redhead. "I'm tired of Miami. Everything that's happened here has _sucked_. I'm getting out of here."

"We don't know what the outside world has to offer," Dez said.

"I guess we're finding out," Austin said, making eye contact with Dez.

"Then you'll know there's a girl on the road in front of you?" Dez questioned. Austin quickly looked away from Dez's gaze in the mirror and his eyes widened. He slammed on the breaks, causing the trio in the car to jerk forward. Ally was jerked forward, waking up. She rubbed her face and looked forward. Her eyes opened a little wider seeing another survivor in front of them.

Austin shifted his gaze to Dez before he shifted the gear into park. He stepped out of the car. "Hey!" Austin shouted.

The girl standing in the headlights of the vehicle looked at the blonde boy who had just escaped the imprisonment of the vehicle. She narrowed her bronze hue eyes. _I swear to God, this one better be sane, _Austin thought sourly. Not trusting the stranger, the girl immediately flashes her pocket knife. Austin's eyes widen. _I knew I was lucked out, _Austin thought again.

"Hey, Whoa, okay," Austin rose his arms, "Please put the knife away," he pleaded to her gently. "We just...We've been searching for survivors and there's three of us, you make four. We don't want to start anything - we...we just want to find as much people as we can-"

The girl was suddenly in front of Austin, pushing him up against the car, the knife centimeters away from Austin's neck. Austin looked her in the eye. Dez watched the action with raised eye brows and Ally watched with horror.

"What do you mean survivors?" the girl with the pocket knife growled.

"Well, sorry to break it to you, but you're not the only one on earth like you might've thought or...wanted," Austin said. He saw the look in her gaze. "Don't tell you don't know," he said.

"Don't screw with me," she shoved him again. Austin's breath didn't even hitch when the knife pressed against his flesh.

"The blast," he hinted. Austin saw the recognition in her eyes as she obviously remembered feeling the blast. He could tell that she had no idea about the aftermath of it. "According to Ginger Boy," Austin shifted his eyes towards the car. She looked and saw Dez before she looked back at Austin, who continued, "A huge ass meteor hit the ground and...killed absolutely everything. So far we're the only people left. If you don't mind, I'd appreciate it if you take your knife off of my neck. I survived the blast of whatever happened and I don't plan on dying anytime soon."

The Latina didn't listen. She pushed the knife's blade a little harder against his neck. Austin fought the urge to roll his eyes. "Just Miami?"

"We don't know," Austin replied gruffly, "We were heading out of Miami just now. If you put your knife away you can join us," Austin offered. The Latina glanced over at Dez and then her eyes fell upon Ally. She immediately thought about her family. Did that mean everyone she's ever loved was dead? She looked at the blonde boy staring at her.

She slowly pulled the knife from his neck. She clutched it tighter. It seemed to be her only comfort. "You're lying to me?"

"No," Austin gave her a sour look, "If it was a lie I wouldn't be wasting my time with a psycho who just held a knife to my neck, or a know-it-all, or a _very_ strange girl who barely says two words and looks like I just pulled her out of the sewer."

She valued his point. "I want shot gun," she demanded.

Austin laughed bitterly, "You just held a knife to my neck, there's no way you're sitting next to me."

"You're good with sitting next to the girl who you claim is so weird?" she asked him.

"Yeah, she doesn't talk and she sure as hell won't put a knife to my neck," Austin retorted.

"I'm taking shot gun whether you want me to or not. After all, I am the one with the knife," she spat.

"Fine," Austin agreed. "If you're going to sit next to me, I'd like a name."

"Trish," she muttered.

"Austin," he replied, "Weird girl is Ally, know-it-all is Dez. But just for a heads up, neither of them are quite..._talkers_." Austin mentioned. Trish nodded. Austin turned around and looked inside the car, sticking his head where the window should have been. He flinches when a piece of glass pinches his palm. "Ally," he calls. When she looks at him, he can see the fear in her eyes and for a moment he feels bad. He nods towards the backseat, "You're sitting back there."

Ally wasn't even hesitant when she scrambled through the two front seats and sat in the back. There was no way she wanted to sit next to whoever it was Austin decided to allow tag along with them. She was starting to regret ever joining Austin.

"Well," Austin looked over at Trish, "Get in." He hopped in the driver's side. Trish threw herself in the passenger side. Austin threw the gear into drive and took off down the highway where the road cracked and bumpy. "It's been like a day...Where have you been?"

"Storm Cellar," Trish said flatly. She hated the obnoxious sound the wind made but she knew there was nothing much she could do. Austin was glad that Trish liked to talk. He finally didn't feel like he was suffocating from silence.

"What's in the bag?" Austin questioned, noticing the brown bag that was strapped around her left shoulder.

"I was just about to go into the city," Trish shrugged, "I take things with me." She opened the flap of her bag. "Flashlight, a few granola bars, a jacket." she said.

"Was it a coincidence that you just happened to be in the storm cellar while _this _happened?" Austin questioned her.

"Guess so," Trish shrugged, a smirk curved along her lips. "Parents kicked me out, I made the storm cellar my little home. Don't be fooled, they make cozy places."

"You were kicked out? Wonder why," Austin muttered. He winked over at Trish when he felt her glare drilling into the side of his face. She rolled her eyes, shifting in her seat until she was comfortable.

"What about you? Where were you?" she asked.

"I don't think you have the right to know," he said.

"Or you just don't want anybody to know where you were," Trish commented. She didn't even know that she was right. Austin ignored her, "How about your friends?" Trish shifted in her seat to look at them. Ally was biting her lip, staring out the window.

Austin laughed slightly, "She's not going to talk to you," Austin told Trish. Trish shrugged and looked at Dez.

"Technology lab," he mumbled.

"Oh, you're a tech savvy," Trish smirked, "You could come in handy." Trish glanced back at Ally who was still avoiding eye contact and conversation with anybody. She decided to press for answers, because when you see a girl as dirty as her, what else would you want from them than answers? "You, _mangled girl_," When Ally looked at her, she continued, "You're pretty suspicious. Won't talk. Won't make eye contact. Dirty. Where've you been? Living in a sewer?"

Austin flinched, _That was uncalled for_, he thought to himself. Despite all the things he thought about Ally's appearance, but he never thought to say it to her face. He's dealt with his fair share of bullies, he knew what it was like to be picked on. It had only seemed to stop when he put up his tough act.

Trish continued, "No? Nothing?" she questioned, "You were right, Austin, she really doesn't like to talk." Trish looked back at Ally who was staring out the window, allowing the wind to blow softly on her face. The air was slightly cool and it felt nice considering that the day had been so hot. "Look," Trish said, "So far we're the only survivors. We're all you've got. You'll have to talk eventually."

"Who would want to talk to you?" Dez suddenly spat at the Latina. Trish turned around and looked at him. "You just held a knife to Austin's neck."

"Touché," Trish smirked. She looked at Ally again, "I'm a pretty cool person to talk to, but suit yourself." Trish turned around in her seat again.

Ally knew Trish was right: She would talk eventually. But it wasn't like Ally was refusing to talk, she just didn't quite remember or understand how to carry on a conversation. She was afraid to talk, to say the wrong things, to look stupid. After all, she's living at a fourth grade education level. But Ally knew she would learn how communications worked. Especially now that Trish was here. She would just need to observe how they spoke together.

Soon enough, Ally was fast asleep, the sound waves of Austin and Trish's voices started to fade as she began to dream a colorless dream.

**. . . . . **

"Where are we now?" Trish rubbed her eyes, the sun's rays had woke her up. Austin had managed to find a map that was in the car, safe and sound. His eye brows were furrowed as he looked upon the map.

"We're in Tampa right now. The second I saw the sign, which was half burnt up by the way, I pulled over and slept because all of you didn't respect that I might be tired, too," Austin said acidly. Trish waved her hand dismissively.

"You got us this far," she said.

"We're gonna look around, but by the looks of it, this is just as hopeless as Miami was." Austin said, "But I found you three. Maybe we've got more people to find."

"Are we really gonna fit more people into this car? We've literally got room for one more." Trish said.

"I can always hotwire more cars," Austin said. Trish slowly nodded. "We could make it to Tallahassee today," Austin said, biting down on his thumb. His eyes grazed along the route to Tallahassee. "But what about these-"

"Everyone's dead, Austin," Dez deadpanned. "It was rare that was survived. Pure luck. If anybody has survived like us, they'll find others on their own."

"Somebody might be by themselves," Austin said, "We should find them."

"We don't have time for good deeds," Dez said, "We're not gonna spend our lives driving."

"We'll do what we need to do to find every last survivor," Austin spat.

"What we need is a place to stay," Trish blurted, "He's right: We can't spend our lives driving or living in this car."

"Let's keep driving," Austin said. He glanced in the rear view mirror and saw Ally was still sound asleep. "Besides, Ally's still asleep. The most we can do right now is keeping driving, at least until we reach..." Austin glanced at the map, "Spring Hill or something. Then we can get breakfast. It'll only take about fifty minutes or so."

Austin figured they reached an agreement when nobody argued. Austin moved the gearshift and stepped on the gas pedal. They took off down the road, eyes searching for anything living.

"Have you ever actually driven before?" Trish questioned, glancing over at Austin.

Austin looked at her before nodding his head, lying. "Yeah...Yeah, of course! Of course I have. Why?"

Trish shrugged, "I was just wondering because you're sort of...doing this," Trish said, demonstrating the swerving motion in a dramatic matter. Austin rolled his eyes.

"It's not like there's anyone around," Austin said, "Even if I am swerving, we're not going to hit anything or anyone."

"No, but you might, I don't know, _flip the car!_" Trish hissed. Austin shrugged. "So," Trish glanced back at Ally and saw that she was still asleep, "What's her deal exactly?" she whispered.

"Who? Ally's?" Austin replied, his voice low. Trish nodded. He shrugged. "I don't know. I bumped into her, decided that we should stick together. She looked really lost and would speak up for herself. I got her some clothes because hers were all ripped up and she had no shoes. I don't know if something's wrong with her or what, but she didn't know how to even shop for her own size in clothes and she didn't know how to tie laces."

"How is someone that stupid?" Trish wondered out loud.

"I don't know. She's been sort of a freak since I found her. I've learned how to ignore it." Austin said. He snuck a peak into the rearview mirror and saw her brown eyes looking at him. His face paled slightly realizing she had heard everything he said. He didn't remove his gaze as he watched her. Ally slowly looked out the window of the car.

Austin looked away from the mirror and focused on the road. There was nothing worse than being caught talking bad about someone by the person whom you were talking bad about. Ally suddenly really missed John. She hadn't seen him for nine years, but that didn't mean she missed him any less. He used to make her feel important and special. She was like his daughter. She started to wonder what ever happened to her parents. John always assured her that he was sure they were very nice people, but perhaps a difficult circumstance happened. She promised to never get angry with her parents, but now she felt a little bit hostile. Towards John, too. He could have just kept her and dealt with the fact that he was running low on food. Besides, All you really need is love.

_There's nothing you can do that can't be done_

_Nothing you can sing that can't be sung_

_Nothing you can say but you can learn how to play the game_

_It's easy_

_Nothing you can make that can't be made_

_No one you can save that can't be saved_

_Nothing you can do but you can learn how to be you in time_

_It's easy_

_All you need is love_

_All you need is love_

_All you need is love, love_

_Love is all you need_

The words bounced around inside Ally's skull, but she had no where to write them so she just sighed softly and kept staring out the window. As Ally wrote the song in her mind, she realized they had made it to another town. Austin then announced for everyone to get out for breakfast. Ally grew nervous. Now she wasn't going to look stupid in front of Austin, she was going to look stupid in front of Dez and Trish, too.

She shuffled behind the group as they made their way inside a building. The only thing damaged about the place was the roof and its window. The group glanced around. There were two skeletons slumped along the counter, and five skeletons around a few tables. The place mustn't have been very busy.

"Donuts," Trish cried, taking a handful.

"They're most likely contaminated," Dez blurted.

Trish looked at the donuts in her hands. "They don't look it," she said, shoving one into her mouth. The group waited but she kept chewing nonchalantly. Austin then shrugged. He reached for a breakfast sandwich that looked slightly soggy but he didn't seem to mind as he shoved it into his mouth.

Dez finally decided that he needed to eat considering he hadn't eaten in about three days. His stomach growled as he touched a blueberry muffin. He quickly started munching down on it.

Austin had been in the middle of eating his breakfast sandwich when he saw Ally standing off to the side, not grabbing anything to eat. Her eyes looked around the store, grazing every little detail while she played with her finger tips and cracked her knuckles. She seemed...nervous, perhaps?

"Ally," Austin called. Ally looked at him. "You gonna eat?" he asked, gesturing to all the food. Ally looked along the food. It did look really appetizing. She looked back over at Austin, remaining quiet. Austin reached over and grabbed a muffin, handing it to her. Ally hesitated before taking it.

"Thank you," she murmured so quiet that Austin had to really focus in order to hear her. He slowly nodded. His eyes narrowed on her as he watched her eat the muffin. Something was odd about her. Her behavior just wasn't normal. By the looks of it, Ally had never eaten a muffin before. _She was just plain weird._

"I found a container," Trish announced, "I'll take some food, pack up on some stuff."

Austin nodded. He looked at Ally again. She really was filthy and needed to be cleaned. "We should...find a place to take a shower or something," he said to the group, "We're all in need of it." Ally felt slightly victimized but she couldn't argue. She wanted to be clean now that she was out from underneath those floorboards.

"I agree! I feel nasty." Trish said, "If this place is anything like Miami, they probably have showers near the beaches." Austin nodded.

"The water might be contaminated with toxins," Dez deadpanned.

"Maybe not," Trish replied. Dez looked at her and shook his head.

"The only person here who I can agree really needs the shower is Ally." Dez said, glancing over to Ally. Ally's face got slightly red and she decided to focus on her muffin. She didn't understand why the group was being so rude to her. She hadn't done anything to single them out or make them feel angry with her. She recalled John telling her that there was always going to be rude people in Ally's life. Ally was six at the time so she didn't exactly take it into consideration, but now she was.

"Whatever," Trish said, "I want a shower. Contaminated water or not."

The group got back into the car and Austin eventually found the way towards the beach. "Oh, god," Trish grumbled as she saw the skeletons along the beach and some even drifting in the water. She felt a little bit sick, but she forced herself to swallow vomit.

"The bathrooms look decent," Austin said, glancing towards the cemented walls that held the bathrooms. "The water might still work. Plumbing is usually underground." He jumped out of the car, everyone following suit. The group dug their way through a shop that had been completely totaled and found themselves shampoo and conditioner. Ally left it to Trish to pick any hair product. Once again, feeling like the useless, uneducated person.

Trish and Ally walked into the ladies room. Ally jumped nearly three feet when she saw her reflection in the broken mirror. Trish looked at Ally and laughed slightly. "Never seen a reflection before?" Trish walked up to another broken mirror and started running her fingers under her eyes. Trish analyzed her own reflection, "Nope, still ugly," Trish said with a smirk and then walked towards a cubicle where the showers were. She turned on the water and gently touched the water. "Aha! Water works and it is not contaminated!" she cried with joy, her voice echoing throughout the bathroom.

Ally looked to her own reflection. She touched her soft cheeks and felt the lines of her jaw. She traced her fingers along her oval face. Her fingers reached towards her eyes, "I have brown eyes," she whispered to herself. She touched her lips which were smooth and a dull pink. She had never seen her reflection before. She never knew what she looked like. She had always guessed. She had always known her hair was brown, due to always playing with the ends of it when it fell upon her shoulders. She saw how matted her hair was and cringed. No wonder everybody thought she was filthy. _She was_. Dirt smears along her jaw line, forehead, and cheek bones from constantly touching the ground and then touching her face. The t-shirt she was wearing made her look extra small and extra thin, although the pants fit her perfectly letting her see exactly how boney her knees were from malnourishment.

Trish's humming stopped as did the running water. Ally looked over towards the curtain where she heard movement. A couple of moments later, Trish appeared dressed in her clothes again. Her hair was wavy and sopping wet along her shoulder as she squeezed out water onto the ground.

"That felt so good," she mumbled. "Well, go on," Trish motioned for Ally to get into the shower. Ally slowly nodded and stepped into the shower. She closed the curtain and underdressed, setting her clothes on a bar where they would stay dry. She turned the knob on the shower and jumped when the hot water stung her skin. It felt good. She had never had a warm shower before, it was always cold. She lathered the soap in her hair.

Trish played with the curls in her hair, forcing them to fall into neat spirals. The beach bathroom had fluffy towels sitting on a ledge. Trish shook one out before placing it over her hair and drying the ends slightly so they would stop dripping.

Suddenly, Ally appeared out of the shower, dressed in her clothes again. Trish gasped, "You look so much better!"

Ally smiled slightly. She looked at her reflection in the mirror and saw her skin was a nice milky white. Trish noticed that Ally's dripping hair still had tangles. It looked like it had never been combed a day in her life. Trish reached for her bag and pulled out a comb that she always kept handy.

"Come here," Trish said. Ally slowly walked towards Trish. She grabbed Ally's hair and despite how aggressive she originally is, she combed Ally's hair gently, detangling it with care. Ally flinched and her eyes watered every time Trish fought with her knotted hair but eventually she could feel the comb running through her chestnut hair smoothly. Ally watched her in the mirror and her eyes grew in size as she saw how she looked now being groomed properly.

"Much better," Trish chirped, finally stepping back after spending twenty minutes tugging and pulling at Ally's hair.

"Thank you," Ally murmured as she looked at herself in the mirror, finally being able to run her fingers through her hair for the first time in a while.

"You speak," Trish gawked. Ally felt a smile take form onto her lips. "And you're welcome," Trish said. The girls then walked out of the bathroom. They found the boys sitting in the sand, staring out at the water. Austin glanced over when he saw them making their way over from his peripheral vision. He noticed Ally's filth was completely gone and her hair was no longer tangled and, well, _she looked_ _good._

Ally looked out at the beach and was in wide-eyed wonder. She had never been to a beach before, even as a kid. John never allowed her to go down there in fear that they would find out she was staying with him or the fact that she might fall into the ocean. The waves crashed along the white sand beautifully. It nearly looked like a picture in one of John's books that she recalled looking at when she was a small child.

"You look like you've never seen a beach before," Trish said, laughing slightly.

Ally was in awe as she responded softly, "I haven't."

Her act of speaking caught the three peoples off guard. Then they got lost in what she just said. Austin stood up. "You've never seen a beach before?" Austin questioned, "At all? Ally, you lived in Miami."

Ally glanced up at him before slowly looking back to the water. The threesome glanced at each other, their minds struck with curiosity. Ally stared and stared and stared. She couldn't get enough in what she was seeing. She ignored the bodies and/or skeletons that were gliding along the current, she focused on the water foam that washed along the shore.

"We should get going," Austin said, touching her elbow to take her out of her trance. Ally slowly nodded and the group headed towards the car, but now they all had questions. Ally really wasn't normal. Who lives in Miami and never sees a beach?

They reached Tallahassee sooner or later. Ally felt slightly sick to her stomach from all the movement of the vehicle, but she didn't mind it too much. She hadn't exactly felt this sick before, especially from driving. It was normally only when she ate something gross or ate too much of something. She was honored to feel sick from exploring cities. You try living under the floor and then getting the opportunity to see all kinds of things in the outside world. It's quite exciting in the moments its happening.

Eventually, Trish and Dez had swapped places. When Austin learned that Dez was a whiz at almost everything, he forced him in the front seat. Trish grumbled as she had to sit in the back but she did it anyways. She wasted time carving a wood of block with her pocket knife. Ally was too busy looking out the window to care about what Trish was up to. The sun was setting. Ally would never forget the colors in the sky. It was magnificently beautiful. She didn't understand how nobody seemed to care.

Ally counted the array of colors that crossed the sky. Her eyes sparkled as she watched the sky turn into twilight before the stars decided to appear, twinkling brightly until they became like a shiny chandelier. Ally rested her head along her arms which were positioned by the window. She enjoyed the feeling of the cool air messing with her brown locks that had now dried into silky waves. Ally closed her eyes and reminisced the moment when she got to look in the mirror for the first time. Of course she had looked into a mirror when she was a child, but she had never memorized her face or seen what she looked like as she got older. The corners of her lips turned upwards as she remembered the color of her eyes and the shape of her own lips. Ally fell asleep, relaxing in how good it felt to have freedom.

"Should we find a place to sleep tonight?" Trish questioned, not looking up as she analyzed when she'd just carved. Her fingers traced the edges and curves of the object. She never knew what she was carving when she started, but she always seemed to be satisfied and relaxed by the time she finished. She had carved a starfish. Trish felt a weight settle on her heart, but she cleared her throat when a lump gathered in there.

Austin glanced down at the dashboard. The gas tank was full. He was glad that they had stopped a couple of hours ago and refilled it with the bucket of gas that the car had kept in their trunk. He looked at the road, watching the pavement fly beneath the vehicle. He had gotten the hang of driving already and found that it relaxed him. He shook his head, glancing in the rearview mirror at Trish.

"No," he decided, "I think I'm gonna drive through the night."

"I thought we were stopping?" Trish frowned in confusion, meeting his gaze in the mirror.

"Changed my mind," Austin said. Truth was: Austin preferred the travel, despite the headache that was pressing against his forehead. He didn't want to sleep. Going to sleep meant letting his thoughts patronize him and tear him apart. He never had nightmares often, the occasional ones, but his thoughts before sleep ever took over him were always violent and made him feel like vomiting when the knots gathered in his shoulders.

"Well, alright," Trish shrugged, "Just don't fall asleep at the wheel. I survived in a situation that I shouldn't have survived in, I don't expect to die soon."

"Right," Austin replied flatly. Trish relaxed back in her seat and forced herself not to grumble about how car sick she was feeling. They had been driving for a long time and she was starting to get restless. Dez was, too, but he never admitted to it. He originally just criticized Austin's driving and had to grip his door for knot clocking Austin in the head with his clenching fists whenever Austin replied with a witty remark.

Austin glanced in the rear view mirror again, taking a look at Trish who had closed her eyes. He thanked God that she was talkative. He knew he would (without exaggeration) die from the quietness of Dez and Ally. Austin's brown irises found Ally's sleeping figure. A gentle smile was pressed on her lips as she slept with light breaths that were muted by the sound of the wind that howled through the windows. The sound hadn't seemed to bother any of them. (Well, it wasn't like they could do much about it either.) Ally's usual terrain of a dirty face and lips curled into an intimidated frown was wiped out with the new cleanness of her milky white skin and ever since she'd been clean, Austin could see how delicate her features were, just how boney and malnourished she was. Her lips had also been curled upwards into a small but genuine smile and her eyes, that were usually dull, had ignited a new spark in them ever since she'd seen the ocean.

Austin looks at the road again, making sure he's consistently heading straight without rolling off of the road subconsciously while he drank in Ally's features. He also knew Dez would snap at him if he made as much as a small mistake. Austin had never been given a chance to see Ally's features. She had normally hid behind tangled hair and a dirty, pale face. He could tell that being clean had done a little bit to whatever confidence she had been lacking because now she didn't sit with shrugged in shoulders or stare at her hands to avoid eye contact. The entire ride she had watched the sky and used her fingers to play with the wind as it brushed across them when she had her hand outside the window.

There was something odd about Ally, Austin had concluded. Although she had hid behind matted hair, Austin occasionally caught sight of Ally's cappuccino irises and the fact that they looked dead, as if a normal eyes sparkle was hibernating. She was also odd because she needed to ask for the date to know her age, there was also the fact that she hadn't known how to tie her own shoe laces or how to shop for her own size in clothing, and there was no missing the fact that Ally was a little bit too quiet but with her quietness, she observed. Not just a couple things here and there, she observed everything. She watched body language, hand gestures, focused in on conversations sharply, watched how replies were made. She looked like a school girl the way she observed, soaking in things like they were the sweetness of candy to melt along her dry tongue. It was as though Ally was trying to learn, as if she had missed all of this at a point in her life.

"Austin," a voice whispered.

Austin jumped slightly and his eyes immediately focused on the girl who sat to the left of Ally, directly behind him. Trish had been watching where his eyes were. He glanced over to his right and notices that somehow Dez had fallen asleep, which was odd because Austin had noticed that Dez didn't sleep much. He looks at Trish again. He frowned slightly.

"I thought you dozed off," he said, looking back to the road again, slightly surprised that he hadn't veered off from staring at Ally for so long.

"I'm car sick," Trish said. He let out a gruff 'ah' and nodded his head. "I'll try to sneak in a few minutes, maybe," she shrugged, "You watch her a lot."

"What?" Austin looked like a deer caught in headlights.

"She's...different," Trish said, grimacing slightly. Austin nodded in agreement, letting out a breathless laugh. "Do you have any idea of where she was?"

"No. Just found her on the street in Miami, looking like she'd just been hit by a bus." Austin replied. Trish looked at him. Ally was mysterious, like one of those cases that never get solved because people were too unsure to prod and poke at the evidences.

"She was definitely somewhere," Trish said. Austin nodded. "She's odd, Austin," Trish continued, "You should have seen her in the bathroom earlier. I swear, Austin, she had never seen her reflection before."

"What?" Austin blurted, narrowing his eyes in confusion.

Trish shrugged, "Don't look at me. I was just the witness to her reaction when she looked in the mirror."

Austin looked at Trish for a moment before his eyes peered over at the sleeping brunette. He shook his head. "All I know is that she's weird." He shook his head. "You should sleep. I like the quiet."

"Funny for a guy who doesn't stop talking," Trish replied smugly. Austin shook his head. Trish relaxed again and eventually, despite her car sickness, managed to fall asleep to the thrumming of the wheels along the road.


End file.
